I keep going, following my instinct no map could understand. The pine trees give way to splintered trunks, blackened and hollowed. The earth changes beneath my steps. Grass disappears. Soil hardens into something cracked and glassy where heat has kissed it too long.
The wind holds its breath. The brave wildlife who ventured into this dangerous land halt their nighttime choir as they wait to discover my fate.
Me too.
I step over the bleached ribcage of something small and unfortunate enough to wander into the line of fire. A fragile reminder that death does not discriminate.
The pull in my chest tightens.Closer,it demands.Don’t flee,it warns.
The ground dips into a vast basin carved by force. Charred trunks of once grand trees bend inward, paying homage to whatever claimed this space. In a circle, monolithic stones stand sentinel.
My fingers graze the closest one. I snatch my hand away and hiss as the heat burns.
There, a curved, dark silhouette moves. Slow. Massive. A wing shifts, sending a low rumble through the ground like distant thunder trapped beneath the earth and not unleashed in the sky. Claws bigger than my head scrape against the ground, creating burrows taller than me. Wings shift, half-folded like broken shields. His heavy, spiked tail snaps side to side, scaleslike hammered iron catching the faint moonlight. Smoke leaks from his nostrils in uneven breaths.
Theo is enormous. My memory fooled me into making him less dangerous, perhaps because I have never felt threatened. Not until this moment.
A monster to most, a beast to battle, but that’s not what I see tonight.
He doesn’t emanate rage or fury. This dragon is consumed with grief.
My pulse stutters, and for a fleeting, foolish second, I consider turning back. Letting the knights wake. Letting someone else decide how to approach a creature capable of turning me to cinder.
But the thread in my chest pulls again, a plea for understanding.
“Theo,” I breathe. The name vanishes into smoke.
A huge gold eye blinks open, and the vertical slit zeroes in on me. His head lifts. Not startled, but slow and deliberate, as something ancient weighs up whether I am worth the effort of annihilation.
The gold eye narrows, the slit thinning to a blade. Smoke thickens at his nostrils, curling upward in lazy spirals. He sees me, but he doesn’t know me.
A low sound builds in his chest. Not a roar; a warning.
I run through the various safety talks I’ve not only been part of, but the driving force behind. Drop and roll? No, I’m not on fire. Not yet. Lie down and raise my legs? Only when I feel like I’m going to pass out. Not there yet. Hold in cold water for ten tempos? Nothing is burned. Again, yet. Jump scare? No hiccups are present.
The ground vibrates beneath my boots. Pebbles skitter. One of the standing stones cracks down its spine.
“Well,” I murmur with an eyebrow raised. “That seems promising.”
His head tilts, and he shifts forward. One colossal claw presses into the basin floor. The earth gives way like wet parchment. Another step and heat rolls toward me in a suffocating wave.
My cloak snaps behind me. The thread in my chest tightens.
He inhales, the unmistakable roar of gathering fire in his chest. No amount of screaming and running will prevent him from ending my life. So I stay.
“If you burn me,” I say, my voice steady despite my thundering pulse, “I will hold this against you in this life and the next.”
His pupils flare, and his mouth cracks open, showing me those razor teeth. In his throat, a ball of flames gathers.
I fold my arms and widen my stance. “I won’t be bullied. Give me my knight back.”
A warning blast hits the ground a few yards to the left.
“Very scary,” I taunt. “But I’m not leaving until you give me Theo.”
Another strike, two strides to my right. Stone liquefies. Heat slams into me, stealing the breath from my lungs and scorching the edge of Malachi’s ridiculous cloak.
I refuse to look at the flames. I keep my eyes on him.
